


Worth the Wait

by happyisahabit



Series: To the Last Letter [3]
Category: Soul Eater
Genre: A Softer World prompt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Kissing, Paralysis, Soul Eater Rarepair Day, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Wheelchairs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 20:12:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17814746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happyisahabit/pseuds/happyisahabit
Summary: Set a few years after the events of To the Last Letter, but can probably be read as stand-alone. Contains spoilers to TtLL.“Some days are magic, and I can do anything. The other days, I just have to wait, and hope it comes back.”





	Worth the Wait

Maka hangs her coat on the little hook hanging by the door, glad to be in from the stiff wind. She scrunches her nose, trying to get rid of the cold clinging to it as she rifles through the mail. Bills, advertisements, fliers… nothing exciting. She pads into the living room, quietly once she sees the man sprawled on the couch. Placing the letters on the coffee table, she catalogues his features.

Black*Star’s face was always the most boyish when asleep. The scars and his intense gaze ruined the effect of his soft smattering of freckles and long eyelashes while awake. Still, she loved those scars and the stories they had etched on his being. At the thought, her eyes drift down, taking in his slow breathing, the small stretches of skin exposed from moving in sleep, until they reach his wrist. Hanging off the couch and out in the open, Black*Star’s Words seem to stare back at her.

Black Blood, the source of so much of her childhood suffering and heartache, yet also the proof of what Black*Star had overcome. Red Words, drenched in misfortune and death, turned Black out of determination and faith. Her Faith, her Word that led her back to him and the one he cherished even more than her.

She left her wrist open for all to see, to read now, much like her father and her love. Much of their history was known to the students and inhabitants of Death City so it seemed silly to bother with the old custom of covering Death’s Words. It was especially unnecessary now that Kid was the new Lord Death. Aside from no longer hunting witches and no longer creating Deathscythes, the new grand reaper no longer bestowed Words upon his children.

All of her students’ arms were blissfully bare. No destiny or fate looped on their wrists in tight script nor strings for them to unravel and follow. 

It was all she could hope for, just like the man before her. Maka softly creeps up to him, grabbing the blanket on the back of the armchair on the way. Gently, she braces a knee on the side of the couch near his hip, the other stretching over him to sink between Black*Star and the back cushions. He stirs slowly, face and hands twitching.

Black*Star yawns and stretches a little while Maka watches him. She drapes the blanket over her shoulders, still a bit cold. As he wakes, Maka’s vision slips to see his soul, to watch the arcs of electric blue reach out to stimulate the muscles in his legs. Black*Star’s paralysis could not be healed, so she was grateful that he was able to utilize his great strength of soul he held to continue to walk. He still needed braces for any extended period of time, but often forewent using them or even his soulforce at home, using his wheelchair on lazy Sundays. 

No chair was nearby so she could safely assume he had used pure soul to make it out to the living room. The blue flickers of his soul were a bit more subdued than usual today. His hands smooth over her slacks up to her sides, untucking her green button down shirt to slip under the hem. His hands are cool, but her shivering doesn’t last long as he pulls her down into his chest. The small smile on his lips disappears from view as she tucks her head onto his shoulder.

His voice reverberates through her, a bit rough with sleep. “Welcome home. How was your day?”

“Same as usual, cold.” She tucks the blanket from her shoulders around them more fully then tucks an arm around him. Black*Star gamely shifts his arm and back as needed to allow her to. Her other hand cards into the thick hair at the base of his neck, rubbing the flesh there. He lets out a noise of appreciation. “The kids in the advanced class are excited to start team resonance next month.”

He hums, fingers kneading into her lower back. “Today was not good.”

Maka says nothing, allowing him to talk. The reason for his subdued reaction to her and his sluggish soul would come up when he wanted. Black*Star was an exceptionally upfront man, honest and blunt, but it was his willingness to talk about the difficult subject that constantly surprised her. After their mutual breakdown upon her discovering his Words, he had hid nothing from her, no omissions. So she waits, twirling short strands around her fingers. Black*Star’s arms tighten around her.

“I had to call out of work today. After you left this morning, I tried to do what I’ve been doing every day, get up, get myself together, get to work.” He pauses, sighes, as he props his chin on her head. “I couldn’t make my legs work like I wanted. I just- it wasn’t happening.”

Maka snuggles into him. “A bad day, indeed.” She doesn’t offer her help, knowing he wants to solve issues on his own, but she still hopes he will ask for it.

He speaks to the ceiling. “It’s like, some days, most days, are good, like magic, and I can anything, everything I want to do with my body. The other days, like today… I just have to wait, hoping it comes back.”

There’s a tightness in his voice that makes her want to look at his face. Maka wiggles her arm from under him and digs into the couch with her knees to lift herself up. She takes his face in both hands, staring straight into his eyes, red from sleep or emotion she won’t guess. His hands hook behind her knees firmly, like he needs to ground himself to something and she is the strongest thing in the room.

“Then we’ll wait together.”

She doesn’t have to have her soul sense turned on to feel the rush of his emotions and the traces of it that surge through him to move his legs. He sits up, dragging her to him and pressing his forehead to hers. Long lashes shutter his emotive gaze, but it escapes in a shuddering breath. She still holds him, palms over his jaw, fingers slipping back into his hair again.

She barely hears him whisper ‘thank you’ before he presses his lips to hers. The kiss is chaste, but charged. He pours himself into everything he does, Maka knows, but his force of his love for her has always been the most potent thing she ever possessed. In return, she wants to make every day good, everyday magic. He had given everything to her and she would wait forever for him, with him.

When he breaks away, Maka follows, until Black*Star takes her hand and presses his mouth against her Word as he often did, laying the gentlest kiss against it. He looks up at her and sees all the fondness she has for him reflected. “I’m so in love with you, Mak.”

She smiles, feeling radiant and adored. “I’ll always be with you, ‘Star,” she whispers, watching the last traces of tension leave him. Maka kisses him, languorous and full of promise. He responds in kind, ensconcing her with his presence, a heady sensation of sanctuary, ardor and devotion. What he murmurs next thrills her and causes her hope and love for him to swell.

“We always were worth the wait.”

 


End file.
